


these final hours

by Hornet394



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Casual Sex, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Is yixing a virgin? who knows. i certainly dont, Light Dom/sub, Loud Sex, M/M, Mild Painplay, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sneaking away from company parties, Submissive Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, also kids please use a condom, cus they dont, oh and use enough lube, they should probably negotiate these kinks on screen though, yixing may be a bit shy but everything is consensual i assure you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 23:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornet394/pseuds/Hornet394
Summary: Yixing is labeled "as pure as a virgin" by a trashy tabloid. Yifan does everything to prove the tabloid wrong.





	these final hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theflyjar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflyjar/gifts), [Soapbubblesoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/gifts).



> kira wanted to write a pwp and then i wanted to write a pwp and then lois wanted to write a pwp so here we are
> 
> this is basically 2012-2014!yixing with without-a-mullet!yifan  
> and i accidentally made yixing really virginal i'm sorry it wasn't meant to go this way it was just meant to be a pwp
> 
> unbetaed, written in like half a day so i apologize in advance

Baekhyun tugs at the sleeve of Yixing’s suit jacket at around 9pm, gently steering him towards a more discreet corner of the ballroom, tucked between a thick pillar and doors leading to an unused sunroom. “Wu Yifan just arrived,” His assistant hisses, “With the big boss.”

Just as he finishes saying this, someone else makes their way inside this little alcove him and Baekhyun are taking refuge in. Baekhyun makes a noise akin to an angry cat as Jongdae shoves his way in, an annoying smirk on his face. “Fancy seeing you here!” He crows, “We’ve been looking all over the place for the two of you.”

Yixing can only stare helplessly as Jongdae pulls his phone out, presumably to text Yifan their location. Baekhyun makes another affronted sound and pushes past Jongdae, fleeing without Yixing. Jongdae winks at Yixing and goes after the other man, leaving Yixing alone for Yifan’s arrival.

Technically, _technically_ , Yifan is Yixing’s boss. Only Junmyeon manages Yixing personally, so even though Yixing’s contract is _technically_ tucked in Yifan’s department, Junmyeon is the one who manages Yixing’s schedules. Yifan makes his displeasure clear in this regard - he wants Yixing to do something else other than his guitar, he wants Yixing to start writing songs that have some sort of sex appeal, he wants Yixing to actually start scandals with his fellow musicians and attend music festivals. He wants Yixing to actually have a personality when being interviewed, wants him to be funny and charming and do fan service.

There are many things that Wu Yifan wants to change about Yixing, and Yixing is very much glad that Junmyeon put his foot down and forbids anyone else from interfering with Yixing’s career. Surprisingly, Yixing’s lack of social life and camera-shy behaviour garnered him the description of “pure as a virgin” by a particularly nasty tabloid early in the week, and from then on Yixing’s fame had taken flight, to both his and Yifan’s shock.

Without his guitar in hand, Yixing is horribly shy, which lands him into situations like these where he can only be rooted in position as Yifan rounds the corner, wearing his suit smartly in a way Yixing never could. Yixing is not short, but Yifan towers over everyone, which includes Yixing. Yifan has a sort of confidence that Yixing can only admire, not aspire to. Unlike Baekhyun’s clear animosity, Yifan had always been a little bit infatuated with the man, even if the things he said irked Yixing at times. And the last time they had been alone -

“There you are, Yixing,” Yifan’s words are like dripping honey, poised low, making Yixing shiver involuntarily. The last time they had been alone was two days ago, after the “pure as a virgin” business. Junmyeon had had Yifan join their meeting to figure out if they should go along with it or do damage control. Junmyeon had to leave midway for a conference call, and left Yixing and Yifan alone to come to a proposal. Then -

“You seem to be running a bit hot, are you alright?” Yifan’s large hand presses against Yixing’s forehead, making his blush worsen. Fingers tuck Yixing’s brown hair behind his ear as the hand slides down to cup Yixing’s jaw gently, the touch sending shivers down Yixing’s spine.

Yifan leans in closer, both of them hidden away by the shadow of the pillar. “I wonder if you still have the marks I left you.” He says, and Yixing’s face immediately goes aflame, pressing himself back against the pillar, helpless against Yifan’s wandering hands that slide down the front of Yixing’s shirt, undoing the first buttons until a hint of purple shows.

The last time they were alone, Yifan had fucked Yixing over his desk within an inch of his life, and Yixing’s legs go weak at the mere memory of it. Yifan smirks at him, as if knowing what he is thinking.

“Not here.” Yixing squeaks out, and Yifan raises an eyebrow, but slides his hand to Yixing’s elbow and guides him to the sunroom, pushing open the unlocked door. The room is dark and unlit, but before Yixing’s eyes can adjust he’s slammed up against the wall, his hiss of pain quickly devoured by Yifan’s mouth covering his. Yixing struggles to keep up and just caves, lets Yifan press him into the wall and kiss his breath away.

When Yifan finally releases him and turns on the light, Yixing has to dig his fingers into the surface behind him to keep himself standing upright, his limbs boneless and his mind dizzy from breathlessness. “Come on,” Yifan calls, and Yixing sees him already sitting on one of the wide couches, one hand going to unzip his suit trousers.

Belatedly Yixing realizes that the sunroom is perfectly in view of the ballroom and the gardens outside through its wide glass windows, and he hastily darts around to pull the curtains shut as Yifan lounges on the wide sofa casually, his hungry gaze seemingly undressing Yixing as he flits around the room.

Yixing’s hands are shaking as he locks the door and yanks the curtains over the glass door in a last burst of energy that burns out immediately, and he stands there, fingers clenching into the heavy fabric. A soft, almost gentle call of his name makes his head whip around to face Yifan, his face burning up.

The man has his trousers undone already, his cock on full display as he leisurely jerks himself off, gaze heavy and lidded. Yixing swallows instinctively, remembering the last time the thick organ had speared him apart on Yifan’s desk, a fullness that could not be replicated.

“Come over here,” Yifan prompts, and Yixing forces himself to let go of the curtain and make small shuffling steps towards the couch. Yifan waits patiently, just continues fucking his fist languidly, legs spreading to make space for Yixing to kneel between them.

Yixing steadies himself with a hand on Yifan’s thigh as he kneels down onto the soft carpet, Yifan’s cock right in front of him. A hand cards through Yixing’s hair, gently tangling through the curls before ushering his head forward as Yifan releases his own cock. The organ is slick and even larger from up close, and Yixing swallows again as he looks up to Yifan with uncertainty.

“You can do it, pet.” Yifan says encouragingly, but his grip on Yixing’s hair is firm as he pushes Yixing onto his cock, the tip brushing against Yixing’s lips. Yixing opens his mouth, his eyes screwed shut as Yifan slowly pushes his cock into Yixing’s throat, the musky scent of the other man intoxicating and overwhelming as Yifan continues pressing, until his cock touches the back of Yixing’s throat.

Yixing splutters a little but forces himself to relax, lets the tears just fall as Yifan just pulls his head back up and makes him swallow Yifan’s cock again, his motions unrelenting but tender. Yixing lets his whole body go pliant, just rests his weight on Yifan’s thighs.

“See?” Yifan is saying, “I told you you could do it. The country’s rising musician on his knees, just a soft, warm mouth for me, swallowing my cock, letting me do anything to him.”

He releases Yixing’s hair briefly as he stands up from the couch, then both of his hands cradle the back of Yixing’s head as he begins to just fuck Yixing’s mouth in earnest, motions sharp and swift. Yixing clings to Yifan’s suit trousers, his jaw begin to ache as he holds his mouth open for Yifan to plunder. “Look at me, pet.” Yifan says commandingly, and Yixing forces his eyes open to look up at the older man, but they water up immediately.

“What a perfect pet,” Yifan croons, “I wonder what they would write if they could see you now, greedy for cock, just a hole for me to fuck. They wouldn’t call you pure anymore, would they? Just a whore on his knees, spreading his legs for any cock to fill.”

Yixing whimpers at Yifan’s words, shame rising on his cheeks at the debasing image that Yifan is painting. Yifan grips his head tighter and pushes his cock deep into Yixing’s throat, making him gag one last time before the other man draws back. Thick ropes of cum fall on Yixing’s face, across his lips and cheekbones. “So beautiful.” Yifan purrs, wiping the semen away from Yixing’s eyes and rubbing it into his skin. Yixing continues to look up at him, taking in deep breaths, his own cock straining hard in his trousers.

Yifan begins to undress himself meticulously, despite the already ruined state of his shirt and trousers. Yixing waits on his knees as Yifan folds his clothes and lays them on the coffee table, cum trickling down his face and drying.

Yifan undresses Yixing with much less care, throwing Yixing’s suit jacket somewhere near the door as he rips Yixing’s shirt off him, pushing him onto unsteady legs and onto the couch roughly as he pulls the rest of the clothes off Yixing’s body.

Yixing is left naked, the cotton of the couch coarse on his bare skin as he curls up self-consciously. His own physique is nothing compared to Yifan’s, a well-sculpted Adonis that cages Yixing against the couch. Yixing’s cock is weeping against his thigh, his throat dry as he can only stare at Yifan as the older man pushes him to kneel on the couch, his gaze on the far end of the room where a wall mirror sits innocently, a clear reflection of the debauchery that Yixing is reduced to.

Hands run reverently along his neck, making him shiver as Yifan presses his chest against Yixing’s back, leaving a small kiss behind his ear. His fingers trace along Yixing’s collar bones down to his nipples, teasing them slightly. But nothing Yifan does is in moderation, nothing he does to Yixing is in moderation, and fingers are pulling harshly at Yixing’s nipples, making him cry out as he falls against the armrest, the pressure on his nipples bordering on pain as his cock rubs white against the fabric underneath.

Yifan chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything, just leaves Yixing’s nipples swollen and red as incoherent pleas ring in the room. His hands continue their path along Yixing’s lithe waist, resting briefly on his hips, and finally settling on his thighs, coaxing Yixing to spread his legs further.

For a while that is the only contact Yixing has, Yifan’s hands spanning the back of his thighs, precum slowly dripping from his erect cock. He can’t see Yifan in the mirror, just his own flushed and sweat-matted face, red extending all the way down to his chest. His cock throbs, begging for any sort of stimulation, but Yifan still doesn’t do anything.

Yixing’s fingers curl in the arms rest, letting out a soft, discontented mewl. “What is it, pet?” Yifan asks, mirth clear in his voice, “I can’t understand you if you don’t say anything.”

Yixing swallows audibly, the shame clearly written on his features in the mirror, but the arousal curled low in the pit of his stomach cannot be ignored. “Please...” He forces out, and his voice sounds hoarse and broken, desperate and wanton.

“Please what?” Yifan presses, hot breath against the back of Yixing’s thighs, near his entrance, and the low keen that escapes Yixing’s mouth makes him bury his face in the armrest in humiliation. Fingers tangle in his curls again and yanks his head back up, stretching his throat taut.

“Please what?” Yifan repeats, his remaining hand squeezing Yixing’s thigh. A broken sob is wrenched out of Yixing’s mouth. “Please touch me.” He gasps out, “Anything, please, please touch me.”

“Anything?” Yifan’s voice is lilting as he releases Yixing’s hair, letting him fall back against the couch. “Tempting.”

Yixing has the faint impression of having signed a deal with the devil, but then there is wetness against his entrance and not even the armrest is enough to muffle his loud cry. He can feel Yifan’s smile against his thigh as Yifan presses a gentle kiss along his inner thigh, which morphs into a bruising bite. Hands wrench his thighs apart even further as Yifan plants his marks along Yixing’s thighs, tongue sporadically dipping into Yixing’s entrance and then quickly withdrawing.

When Yifan begins to tongue fuck him in earnest Yixing is crying against the armrest, his thighs stinging from the stretch of muscle and unrelenting bites, his cock leaking angrily. Yifan drags Yixing back by the thighs until he’s almost grinding Yixing’s ass onto his face. Yifan’s tongue is broad and plunders Yixing’s entrance, just barges in and curls inside of him, lascivious sounds ricocheting obscenely in Yixing’s ears.

“You are so awfully loud,” Yifan says as he slips a finger inside of Yixing, eliciting a sharp cry from the musician. “Perhaps I should buy you a ball gag if you can’t control yourself. Or perhaps I should plug your mouth up with a dildo, to remind myself of how good you suck cock. Or perhaps the lovely assistant of yours would want to help? Who could stare at your lips and not imagine them around their cock? Not me, for certain.”

He returns his tongue to Yixing’s entrance as he presses two fingers in, and Yixing is utterly ashamed of how loud his whimpers become as Yifan spreads him apart, preparing his body for a higher ecstacy. “Please,” He bursts out again, beyond caring of Yifan’s regard of him, “I want to come.”

“Impatient.” Yifan tuts, but withdraws his two fingers. Then something much bigger and hotter presses against Yixing’s entrance, and he can’t stop the scream as he is speared apart. He’s barely been prepared enough and it _hurts_ , but the burn somehow makes everything _better_ and in just a few thrusts he’s coming with a strangled scream.

His knees give way and he slumps onto the couch, boneless, but Yifan’s cock is still hard and throbbing inside of him. Large, impatient hands yank his hips upwards and Yifan begins to actually fuck him. His cock fills Yixing up entirely, touching every crevice, scathingly hot and hard, just splitting Yixing apart. Yifan slams Yixing backwards onto his cock, and Yixing cries out again from the overstimulation, his cock making a weak spurt. Yifan disregards this as he starts fucking him faster and harder, just pistoning in and out of him.

“Your ass is just a hole for me to fuck,” The words he snarls are pure filth, dripping like honey and seeping into every crevice of Yixing’s being, “Should just tie you to my desk, have you spread open with a plug in your ass, so I can just pull it out and fuck you when I want. You’re my good little fucktoy, always so fucking tight.” Yixing’s cock begins to rise again even as his lower body grows numb from the rapid slams of flesh hitting flesh continuously. Yifan’s grip on his hips are bruisingly tight, adding to the plethora of marks that Yifan had already left on him.

If anything Yifan’s cock seems to grow even thicker, moving fluidly inside of Yixing’s slick entrance. Yixing cannot muster up the energy to move, the pain and pleasure mixing in his mind, confounding him. Tears fall freely from his eyes as he lets out broken moans and gasps, wanting Yifan to back up, to give his body a break, but at the same time addicted to the way Yifan plays his body like an instrument, albeit cruelly.

Yifan lets go of his hips to yank him up around the chest, forcing him to kneel upright. Fingers go to his nipples again, rolling and pinching until Yixing is thrashing against Yifan’s hold, his cries hiking up into almost screams. In this angle Yifan’s cock reaches even deeper than what Yixing thought was possible, scraping against his prostate with every thrust.

Yifan grunts low in his ear when he comes, semen filling Yixing up rapidly and plugged in by Yifan’s cock. One light touch on Yixing’s cock and he’s coming as well, adding to the mess that he had already made earlier. This time when he falls, boneless, Yifan lets him lie on the couch fully, sliding his flaccid cock out. Instantly Yixing can feel Yifan’s seed rushing out, and the rim of his entrance flutters weakly, trying to keep the come inside in the most base of desires.

In the periphery of his vision he can see Yifan dressing himself, once again prim and proper, a picture perfect image of aristocracy. Then Yifan walks towards him again, and Yixing forces himself to sit back up. Yifan smirks at him lightly, before using his pocket square to wipe away the come and tear tracks from Yixing’s face in a surprisingly tender manner. He proceeds to wipe away most of the come on Yixing’s thigh, but with every touch it seems even more fluid gush out, making Yixing burn in embarrassment again.

“What a slutty virgin,” He hears Yifan chuckle, then the pocket square is slipped into his entrance, plugging it up once again. Yifan helps Yixing back into his clothes, and he is acutely aware of how the silk of the pocket square brushes against his skin, how his rim clings greedily to it.

When Yixing is somewhat presentable Yifan pulls open the curtains of the glass door open, revealing the party outside. It seems like no one had noticed their absence, of the debauchery that had happened just a door away. “Until the next meeting, Yixing.” Yifan says with faint amusement, “I’ll have Baekhyun pick you up.”

Then Yifan steps back into the party, entirely at ease, leaving Yixing in the sunroom both dreading and looking forward to their next meeting.

  


**Author's Note:**

> this fic was also nearly called "no sappy shit what the heck" after kira told me to write valentines themed pwp like have you seen the word fluff put in the same sentence as me cus i haven't  
> Instead i literally pulled a lyric from the song I had on my playlist? a cover of "i can't make you love me" by the lovely aaron tveit you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toJ-UZLRSkM)  
> there's no relation with the fic though like none at all lmao i literally just pulled it cus i was listening to it at the moment
> 
> [I have a twitter](https://www.twitter.com/hornet394)  
> [and a curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/hornet394)  
> [And also a tumblr but I still don't really know how to use it](https://hornet394.tumblr.com)  
> 


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